“No.” Fin looked around them.
“Do you think this could be the femur’s owner? I mean, he’s not a skeleton, but I’m hoping there are not two dead people to think about,” Joe said.
“Likely it is. Hard to say, as everything is such a mess down there, with the earth piled all over the body. Looks like an animal dug it up, then possibly ran off with the femur to have a gnaw. Hence it not looking like this.”
“Well, hell.” Joe looked greener. “What do you want to do now?”
“We need to get whoever this is back down to Chief Blake.”
Joe exhaled slowly. “Why did I know those words were coming out of your mouth.”
“Get Luke, he has a strong stomach, and Lint. For all his bellyaching, he can handle this too,” Fin said, opening his backpack. “You go on and wait with the others.”
“Does it make me less of a man that I’m happy you said that?”
“Hell yes, and I’m telling everyone who will listen when we get down from here.”
He shrugged out of his jacket as he listened to the thud of Joe’s feet running back to the others, then pulled on his disposable gloves, grabbed the thick plastic bag he’d packed, and lowered himself into the grave gingerly.
When Luke and Lint arrived, he was bagging the body.
“What do you want us to do?” Lint said, all business now.
“I’m down here, so I’ll bag up, then we’ll lift the body out and carry it down.”
The process was slow, but eventually they got everything ready and were soon heading to where the others waited. They all then began the long, silent journey down carrying the body.
Arriving at the ranger station, Fin signaled the men to carry the body to the small building on the side where they kept supplies, opening it with his keys. They placed it inside, and he locked it.
“Now I need you boys to keep this to yourself for now. I’ll call Chief Blake, and then he’ll do what he can to get an ID on whoever this is as soon as he can.”
“My money’s on Simon Linbar,” Lint said. “Been missing about two years now.”
“Speculating is not helping,” Fin said. “Now you head off, and thanks for your efforts today.”
“Hell of a thing,” Joe said. “Want us to stick around?”
“No point. Besides, I’ll be getting that body out again soon.” The color that had only just found its way back into Joe’s face started to drain away again.
Luke grabbed his brother’s arm as he stumbled. “You always had a weak stomach.”
There was only him in the station on Saturday, so Fin made coffee, then headed to his office, where Chief Blake found him writing a report on everything that had happened and eating a stale donut he’d found in his desk.
“Do you think it’s the femur’s owner?”
“Yeah. I looked at the legs, and there was one missing, but then the body was in a bad way, so I’d need that confirmed. My guess is an animal dug up the grave and took the leg.”
“Glad you found it and not me,” Chief Blake said, going to Fin’s coffeepot and pouring himself a cup. He then sat across the desk. “Who the hell would have murdered someone and buried them on Phil, and why?”
“It wasn’t somewhere a day hiker would find it, and off the trail. My guess is that whoever buried that body believed it was buried for good,” Fin said.
“So it’s likely murder,” Chief Blake said. “Unless someone wanted to be buried up there and a relative promised they’d see it done.”
“I doubt they’d have put them in a shallow grave, and this is not the Wild West, Chief. We embalm and put our dead in coffins if we don’t cremate them.”
“I know it, but I have to look at all sides. Plus, there is plenty of crazy in this town.”
“Amen.”
